Aftermath
by NightwindandFrostbite
Summary: G1 AU A three part epilogue to Redemption. In Part 1, some things are settled at Decepticon HQ. Part 2 is Starscream/Skyfire-centric. Part 3 is Prowl/Jazz fuzzies. Since this is Redemptionverse, slash relationships are involved, but there's no ickiness.
1. Chapter 1

Notes: So, it's been on my mind to write a little follow-up to "Redemption," to sort of bridge the gap between the story and its ensuing continuity. So, here it is. It will, naturally, make absolutely no sense to you unless you've read "Redemption." It's a three-part story, of which this is the first part. Each part will be a self-contained little vignette. This one has a peek in on the Decepticons. The second (which I'm working on now) will follow up with Jazz. The third will have a look at what Starscream and Skyfire are up to. So, here you go with Part 1. Hopefully Part 2 will be up shortly and Part 3 will follow in a timely manner after that...

* * *

"Are we going to have a problem here, Soundwave?" Skywarp asked urgently, leaning all of his weight on his two hands, which were splayed against the tabletop that separated him from the Decepticons' head of Intelligence. He was leaning across the table, staring intensely at Soundwave, his nose mere inches from Soundwave's face. He was trying to ascertain even a glimmer of Soundwave's thoughts.

Soundwave, for his part, sat calmly, silently regarding Skywarp with a fathomless gaze. He had not even made an effort to pull away from Skywarp, which had been his first instinct when Skywarp had leaned toward him. Rather, he deliberately held himself firmly in check, making certain that neither his expression nor his body language would reveal anything to Skywarp about his own state of mind. He was quite determined to be, at least for the moment, a cold counterpoint to Skywarp's obvious nervous intensity. He was content to say nothing at all, content to merely observe the Seeker's actions and his state of mind. He knew that in any war of patience between him and Skywarp, he would always be the winner.

Sure enough, after holding Soundwave's stare for what seemed to Skywarp like hours, Skywarp huffed an impatient half-snort half-sigh at Soundwave and went back to pacing around the small conference room that was occupied only by himself, Soundwave, and Thundercracker. If he could have, Soundwave would have smirked in satisfaction. It vastly amused him to watch Skywarp warily tip-toeing around him.

It had been almost seven weeks since Megatron's and Starscream's disappearance and then Megatron's subsequent return to Decepticon Headquarters in decidedly less-than-optimal condition. The Decepticon leader had shown not a glimmer of consciousness since Soundwave had brought him back. It was Hook's firm opinion that Megatron would never awaken, that it would be a mercy simply to remove him from the machines that were for the most part sustaining his life, to be done with the whole business and move on with their lives. The fact that Megatron was perhaps permanently disabled was not general knowledge, but rumors were certainly flying around Decepticon Headquarters regarding his continued absence as well as Starscream's. Idle impatience was wearing on all of the two-hundred-and-some Decepticons currently residing on Earth, and unrest, according to a demanding-to-know-what-the-hell-was-going-on Shockwave, was slowly spreading around Cybertron as well. All the stalling in the world was not going to suffice to keep the other Decepticons calm for very much longer. They were demanding answers.

And, Skywarp allowed, they deserved some answers, some direction, some reassurance that things would be all right, if only so that anarchy would not explode all over the place. So, a general briefing had been arranged and was scheduled to commence in just a few hours. The largest storage area in Decepticon Headquarters had been cleared out to serve as a venue for the briefing, and Shockwave and his advisors on Cybertron would be patched in via commlink as well. Skywarp, with Thundercracker's guidance, had figured out what the Decepticons needed to be told and what they didn't need to be told just yet, and they had sketched out the direction that the Decepticons were going to take going forward, a direction that might simply be a short-term one to tide them all over until Megatron recovered…or it might be the overriding direction for them for…well, for forever. Whatever the case, all was in readiness. Skywarp, after much nervous and indecisive fretting, was ready to go, ready to lead, ready to do whatever was necessary to keep the Decepticons moving forward, whether he led for two weeks or for the next two million years or more. He was eager to get the show on the road, as the saying went.

The only stumbling block was that neither Skywarp nor Thundercracker were entirely sure of exactly where Soundwave stood. Since Megatron's disappearance, the spy had been even more monosyllabic than usual. Moreover, he had seemed content to let Skywarp guide the Decepticons, saying and doing nothing to gainsay him even though, as official third-in-command, he would have been fully within his rights to do so. He had, for the moment, simply chosen not to exercise that option. He had chosen, in fact, to do nothing, leaving a void which Skywarp, as Air Commander in Starscream's absence, had stepped in to fill. Initially, he had done so out of necessity more than out of desire. But over the weeks of since Megatron's incident, he had grown increasingly comfortable with the role with one nagging exception: Soundwave.

Soundwave was nothing if not an entirely unknown and unknowable quantity. He might be content to let Skywarp lead going forward, content simply to continue to serve as head of Intelligence…or he might not be. There was really no way to know, certainly not from any outward signs that Soundwave himself displayed, but the matter needed to be settled before the briefing started. Soundwave, however, wasn't being very cooperative, and Skywarp was quickly losing patience.

Thundercracker, however, was not.

"We're out of time here, Soundwave," he rumbled calmly at the master spy. "A decision needs to be made one way or the other, and it needs to be made right now."

The junior Seeker's voice was all confidence, all certainty, all steely resolve. Soundwave unhurriedly turned his head to level his gaze on Thundercracker and was almost surprised at what he saw. Thundercracker stood off to the side, feet planted firmly a bit more than hip-width apart, his back ramrod-straight, shoulders square, hands on hips, expression calm but focused and determined. The transformation in him over the last few weeks, Soundwave noted absently, was truly remarkable. Where once he had been wholly uncertain of himself, always second-guessing himself and always, therefore, ultimately ineffective, he had of a sudden – and perhaps of necessity – come into his own in the wake of Megatron's loss.

Soundwave considered himself a keen observer of, among other things, his fellow Decepticons. And eventually, observing Thundercracker rather closely had led him to suspect that of the primary trine of Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker, all of Starscream's and Skywarp's loud bravado aside, it was actually Thundercracker who was, at his core, the strongest of the three in terms of strategic intelligence and potential determination. Therefore, Soundwave had come to consider him the most dangerous of the three and had always warned Megatron to keep a close eye on him. His warnings had always been particularly strident because Thundercracker had such a deep influence on Skywarp, whom Megatron had always implicitly trusted for reasons that Soundwave had never understood. Megatron had always scoffed at the notion, clearly focused on Starscream's far more obvious treachery. And yet, as soon as Megatron was gone…There was Thundercracker stepping in, clearly prepared to take Megatron's place, via Skywarp, and to do what he felt needed to be done. Moreover, he was clearly quite happy that Megatron was, for all intents and purposes, gone. From what Soundwave knew of the events prior to Megatron's and Starscream's ultimate reckoning and Thundercracker's rumored part in those events, Megatron would have done well to listen to Soundwave more closely, indeed…

It was all irrelevant now. What was done was done. And now…Well, Soundwave was fully aware that Thundercracker was the real power behind Skywarp. Skywarp had the charisma, to be sure, as well as the drive and the "people skills" necessary for leadership; Thundercracker, however, had the intelligence, the practicality, the tactical thinking, and perhaps even the cunning necessary for effective and productive Decepticon leadership. Together, Soundwave acknowledged, the two Seekers were indeed a force to be reckoned with.

The question, of course, was whether or not Soundwave wanted to reckon with that force. He knew himself well. He knew that he had the intelligence necessary to lead and the tactical skills as well…but he also knew that he sorely lacked those "people skills" that Skywarp had in spades and that, ultimately, were the most important quality for an effective leader to have. Neither did Soundwave have anyone to fill in those holes in his personality, as Skywarp had. Neither could Soundwave instill the level of fear in others that had, ultimately, kept Megatron in his position for eons. Had he that, then he wouldn't need the people skills. But he had never worked through fear; subtle manipulation had always been more his forte. It was an excellent quality for a spy to possess, but not so excellent in a Decepticon leader. So logically, Skywarp – with Thundercracker's support – was the best choice for the job. Soundwave fully acknowledged that, given the harmony with which they customarily worked together, the two Seekers in the room with him were the Decepticons' best chance to survive and possibly even to thrive now that Megatron was perhaps permanently incapacitated.

Still…

Still, Soundwave was a Decepticon, and all Decepticons were at heart fueled by a desire for power, for control. Without that desire, they would not have chosen nor remained long upon the Decepticon path. Leadership of the Decepticons was potentially the ultimate power, potentially the means to control everything in the galaxy and perhaps even beyond. There was a lure there, definitely, a strong one. And Soundwave, if he acquiesced to Skywarp and Thundercracker's proposition, would effectively be giving away that potential power that was, indeed, rightfully his. He had to decide whether or not he was willing to do that.

He had always been loyal to Megatron, to a fault. He had served Megatron faithfully, had learned well from him, even, and had enjoyed an amicable relationship with him that most – if not all – other Decepticons could not claim. He had never sought power for himself, if only because with Megatron firmly in control, Soundwave knew that power would never be his. Knowing his place in that way had always contented Soundwave. He was satisfied with simply performing his duties well, using his considerable skills to serve Megatron's cause in whatever way that Megatron dictated. Unlike Starscream, he had never seen the point in trying to gain more for himself than that which he had been allotted to him by a fair and powerful leader.

So, Soundwave had to ask himself now if acquiescing to Skywarp's proposition would change anything for him. It was pointless to resist change; Megatron could not possibly lead them at the moment, and in all likelihood he would never be able to do so again. So, shifting his loyalty could not be construed as a betrayal on his part. In addition, his duties would be the same comfortable, familiar ones that they had always been; he would merely be serving someone else, taking orders from someone else. Given all of that, he would likely be just as content as he had been prior to Megatron's…difficulties, should he officially hand over leadership to Skywarp. True, he and Skywarp had had their differences in the past, the majority of them stemming from the fact that Skywarp had always delighted in trying to humiliate Soundwave with an endless parade of puerile pranks. But surely, as official leader of the Decepticons, Skywarp would no longer have the time for such frivolity…

Soundwave felt something click into it rightful place in his mind just then, something that had been out of place and jangling constantly at him, all out of tune, ever since Megatron had told him of his plan to do away with Starscream once and for all and certainly since Megatron had quite obviously failed in the execution of that plan. Starscream, Soundwave deeply suspected, was still out there somewhere, waiting, observing, biding his time. The jangling was Soundwave's own uncertainty, his own indecision. He'd vehemently cautioned Megatron against following through with his plan regarding Starscream, cautions at which Megatron had scoffed as cowardly and trifling. After finding Megatron for all intents and purposes dead, Soundwave had subsequently been completely uncertain as to what course to follow. Pursue Starscream? He was certain that he would be able to track him down, wherever Starscream had gone; he had an extensive network of informants both on Earth and on Cybertron. But then what? Take matters into his own hands? He had not the desire nor, when he was honest with himself, the ability to do so.

Nor, when he truly searched himself, did he truly have any real desire to lead in Megatron's place.

Instead, he was being offered something much more in line with his skills and his own desires and talents. By continuing in his present duties, he could both serve the Decepticon cause – whatever that was going to be going forward – while still having the freedom to make certain…inquiries…after a certain Seeker and, no doubt, after his large ex-Autobot friend, as well. Moreover, he would also have a great deal of influence with the new Decepticon regime, perhaps even more influence than he had ever had with Megatron, who had rarely listened to even the most sage advice, particularly when he had been in certain recalcitrant moods that had usually been sparked by Starscream's various plots and plans.

The idea appealed. It appealed greatly, in fact. Skywarp had just declared his firm intention to assert himself as leader of the Decepticons for at least as long as Megatron was out of commission. He had asked Soundwave point-blank whether or not Soundwave was intending to assert his acknowledged right to take over leadership of the Decepticons, thus countering Skywarp's claim. It was a question over which Soundwave himself had been deliberating for quite some time. Now, Soundwave finally had a firm answer, both for Skywarp and, more importantly, for himself.

"There will be no problems," he announced succinctly and emotionlessly, as was his wont. He felt that there was no need for any further elaboration.

In response, Skywarp let loose a long-held sigh of relief and, abruptly stopping his manic pacing, he slumped wearily against the nearest bulkhead. If he could have, Soundwave might have smiled at the Seeker's utterly predictable response. Something, however, compelled him to look over at Thundercracker again, who he found was regarding Soundwave perhaps speculatively, frowning thoughtfully at whatever was running through his head at the moment. As Soundwave met his gaze, Thundercracker gave him a curt nod and an indecipherable look.

"Good choice," he said coolly, quietly, and then without further ado he turned on his heel and headed decisively for the door. Soundwave and Skywarp, after exchanging a glance, followed. As Soundwave followed the two Seekers down the corridor toward the storage area that had been designated as the briefing venue, Thundercracker's odd expression frozen in his mind, he idly wondered what would have happened to him had he held his ground and insisted upon following the official chain of command.


	2. Chapter 2

"Careful," Starscream cautioned as Skyfire warily approached him. "You'll get Decepticon cooties all over you."

He had been going for a light tone of voice. Maybe a bit of irony mixed in with the customary snarky sarcasm. The tone that emerged from his mouth, though, was far more bitter than Starscream had intended. Someone who didn't know him well might not have noticed the hurt and the lacerated pride that lay just beneath the thin veneer of carefully-constructed defensive sarcasm, but unfortunately for Starscream, Skyfire knew him very well indeed.

Skyfire finished his approach, folded his arms over his chest, and regarded Starscream with a helpless mixture of disapproval, dismay, and deep empathy. It was, naturally, a look virtually guaranteed to infuriate Starscream.

"What?!" Starscream demanded of Skyfire, true to form, after absorbing Skyfire's expression. "It's true, you know. Ask your dear friend Chromia over there," he finished acidly, jerking his chin contemptuously at the gathering of local Neutral enclave leaders across the way. They were avidly watching his and Skyfire's exchange, making no attempt whatsoever to hide their scrutiny and obvious interest.

Skyfire sighed. This, he concluded, was going to be one of _those_ conversations. _Those_ conversations happened quite often of late, far more often than Skyfire might have liked. On the other hand, he supposed he should have expected it. Starscream, for all of his initial and perhaps overly idealistic enthusiasm about breaking away from the Decepticons, had ultimately had a bit of difficulty making the adjustment in reality. In fact, "a bit of difficulty" was a vast understatement.

They'd had no trouble making contact with the so-called Neutrals. Skyfire found the term to be something of a misnomer, though. It was true that amongst those calling themselves Neutrals, there were many individuals who actually were truly neutral. Like himself, they wanted no part of the war; they just wanted to be left alone to live their lives in peace and to rebuild their homes and their homeworld as best they could even as the warring factions continued to fight and destroy it, intentionally or not. But many of the other "Neutrals" did not share those motivations. There were disaffected Autobots and Decepticons sprinkled within the enclaves as well, individuals who spitefully saw joining the Neutrals as damaging whichever cause that they had abandoned. Starscream, of course, fell into this category. And, of course, there were individuals who were non-aligned but who selfishly sought to profit from the war. Arms dealers who sold their wares to both sides. Information brokers who sniffed out information in the service of the highest bidder, without a thought as to what might be done with the information that they procured and provided. Spies for both of the warring factions peppered the Neutral population, as well. And, of course, there were the refugees, people whose homes and lives had been destroyed by the war. Although they were usually very angry at whichever side had caused the damage, they apparently felt no need to join the side which opposed it. They turned to the Neutrals because they had nowhere else to go, but neutral they themselves were not. Mostly, they were just bitter and angry, yet apathetic and broken at the same time, a very bizarre combination. But war, Skyfire sadly reflected, tended to bring about just such oddities.

It was a colorful group of people, to be certain, and a distressingly disorganized one as well. There were enclaves of various sizes scattered around the planet, each one led by one individual or a small committee of individuals, but there was no real cohesiveness or connection or communication between the leaderships of the enclaves. The fairly recent disaster involved with moving the planet to Earth's solar system had completely disrupted any progress that had been moving in that direction.

None of the Neutral leaders knew Skyfire. He had been out of the loop for too long, long thought dead, and most of the people who had known him when he had previously been on Cybertron were long since dead or aligned with one side or the other, as Starscream had been. Skyfire had no contact with them. So, all things being equal, the enclaves were willing enough to allow Skyfire to join their group. He had valuable skills and a very useful alternate form, if nothing else.

On the other hand, everyone knew Starscream, and he hadn't been welcome anywhere. In enclaves in which the majority were disaffected Decepticons, he was particularly despised; they saw him as a mere pawn of Megatron.

When they'd stumbled upon Chromia's enclave in their travels, Starscream had been shocked to see her. Skyfire, of course, did not know her, but Starscream surely did and had quickly filled him in on the details. That she was Ironhide's bondmate and had been second-in-command of Elita-One's guerilla unit on Cybertron. That according to the Decepticon intelligence to which he had been privy, she and Elita-One had had a rather public and very ugly falling out, after which Chromia had disavowed the Autobots and struck out on her own. That Chromia had promptly fallen off the radar after that, and the Decepticons hadn't cared enough about her to find and track her. And now here she was, leading what was probably the largest Neutral enclave on the planet, one with growing influence and even a modicum of power now that the Decepticon stranglehold on the planet had been weakened first by the disastrous effects of the planet's insertion into Earth's solar system and then by the demise of Megatron and the Decepticons' resulting drawing inward in order to regroup.

Intrigued by Chromia's history and by some of the more colorful characters in her enclave, Skyfire had approached Chromia and, surprisingly, she had allowed him to join her group even after he had confessed that with him he brought Starscream. She was extremely hesitant to do so, had informed Skyfire bluntly that they – meaning Starscream specifically, of course – would be closely watched, but she had allowed them to join the enclave on a trial basis. She was quick to reserve the right to kick their afts across the planet if Starscream so much as blinked in a way she didn't like, though.

So they did not get along very well at all, Starscream and Chromia. There were too many eons of bad blood between them. But she acknowledged that he had valuable knowledge and insight and, after a while, she had even admitted that he possessed a level of tactical brilliance that she hadn't really expected of him. She had admitted privately to Skyfire that Starscream was – or at least was on his way to becoming – a different person than the one that she had known for so long, a miracle for which she gave Skyfire full credit and Starscream no credit at all. Starscream, in turn, couldn't help but respect Chromia's abilities and her survivalist attitude that had made her enclave one of the largest and certainly the most stable, well-organized, well-equipped, and well-supplied one on the planet.

Mutual grudging respect didn't mean that Starscream and Chromia liked each other at all. Most of their conversations were bad ones, Starscream falling easily into his habit of trying to control everything, which in turn rubbed Chromia, who was somewhat of a control freak herself, in all the wrong ways. Planning sessions usually involved a wealth of heated words and mutual suspicions exchanged between them, no matter how much Skyfire sought to keep both sides calm. Even on good days, their exchanges consisted mostly of acrimony and thinly-veiled mutual threats and accusations. Both of them entirely lacked social graces and the ability to be politely tactful where the other was concerned. Skyfire, in more mellow and reflective moods, had often privately observed that they were very much alike and that this was the main reason, aside from their differences as ex-Autobot and ex-Decepticon, that they were often at each other's throats.

The disappearances hadn't helped, either. Over the last nine weeks – roughly coinciding with the moment that Skyfire and Starscream had joined them – Chromia's enclave had lost more than thirty individuals. They had simply disappeared, one or two at a time every once in a while, sometimes at night and sometimes in broad daylight. None of those who had disappeared had been seen or heard from since. Suspicion and blame for the disappearances were naturally being laid at Starscream's feet, and he didn't deal well with that.

So now the mutual dislike and distrust between Starscream and Chromia and the subtly heated words they usually exchanged had devolved into actual physical violence. The veil had come off the accusations of Starscream's responsibility for the disappearances in the middle of a tentative meeting between several leaders of local Neutral enclaves who were willing to ally themselves and work together in an effort to get to the bottom of the disappearances. A brawl had ensued. It had been a confrontation that Starscream, much to his chagrin, had lost. It wasn't surprising since it had been three against one, but that didn't matter to Starscream's wounded pride, so he had stormed away in an offended snit, as usual, leaving Skyfire to do what he could to fix things. All it had taken was a significant glance from Chromia to send him on his way; one of his jobs in the enclave had quickly become that of Official Seeker Tamer.

And now, Skyfire said nothing for a long while, content to merely watch Starscream, trying to assess his state of mind and get a sense of how best to talk to him this time. Starscream was radiating intense waves of "Leave me alone" at the moment, but Skyfire wouldn't do that because he knew that if he left Starscream alone then the wounds he was nursing would simply fester. Then the self-recrimination and the self-hatred would kick in full-force, and they'd be right back to square one quickly enough to make Skyfire's head spin. As it stood, leaving Starscream alone for any longer stretch of time to think and brood was not a good idea in general, and it certainly wasn't a good idea at this specific moment.

Skyfire sighed, not for the first time, as the thought crossed his mind that his "job" would be so much easier if Starscream would allow them to renew their bond. But that, at the moment, was out of the question. Starscream was jumpy in the extreme, and their situation at the moment, the suspicion and tension that were surrounding him and the eyes that were upon him, didn't help matters. He flinched away from even a simple, non-intimate touch unless he had initiated it himself, and those times were exceedingly rare. Skyfire had nigh-infinite patience, though, and he had made a vow to stand by Starscream for as long as it took, to take things at Starscream's speed even if glaciers moved faster than Starscream did. It was a vow that Skyfire took very seriously. Still, in the privacy of his mind, he often wished things would hurry up on that end, if only to have that immediate and intimate connection with Starscream again, to know what Starscream was thinking before he even consciously thought it. Perhaps, Skyfire thought, that was what Starscream, now, feared the most. Nevertheless, it was what Skyfire craved, and he wouldn't deny it. He also wouldn't push it, though; that was the vow that he had made.

It didn't mean that Skyfire couldn't wish for it, though. Now, staring at Starscream, watching him with an ache of empathy flaring deep in his spark, Skyfire wished for it more than anything. He was tired of having to try to guess what was going through Starscream's mind. He wanted to _know_ what was going through his mind, so that he could more effectively help Starscream fight his demons. But Starscream was stubborn and hated being out of control. He insisted on doing things himself, even while on the other hand occasionally admitting, in quieter moments when he wasn't trying desperately to maintain a façade of self-sufficiency, that he needed help. Admitting to the need for help was apparently, for Starscream, an altogether different and much easier thing than actually accepting that help, though. And at the moment, Starscream felt far away from Skyfire, farther away than he'd felt for quite a while now. All that Skyfire could do was to try to get him to talk, on the theory that if he could get Starscream to open his mouth, then maybe, eventually, he'd open his spark as well.

Skyfire lived in hope of that. He knew that Starscream loved him because Starscream told him so often. Skyfire, knowing Starscream well, could tell that he was sincere. But there was still a deep chasm between them, and Skyfire hadn't yet figured out how to bridge it. All that he knew was that the only construction materials he had at hand were words.

"They're afraid, Starscream," Skyfire quietly rumbled at Starscream, without preamble. "They're afraid, they're not warriors, and they're losing people practically every day. They have been ever since _we_ joined them. What do you expect them to think?"

Starscream stared at him. Anger flared in his red eyes, his posture was stiff with offense and humiliation, his chin was raised defiantly, and his arms were folded and locked defensively across his chest. It took him more than a few moments to construct a reply.

"I _expect_ them to use some logic, Skyfire," Starscream growled back, trying to rein in the fury that was eating away at his innards and at his rationality. "Why do they automatically assume that it's the Decepticons that are doing this? Have you _seen_ any Decepticons around lately? I haven't. They're all too busy with that orbital whatever-it-is they're building around Io," he said, distractedly waving in the general direction of the moon next door. "It's a big project, takes lots of time, energy, and labor. So why in Primus's name would they be sneaking around _wasting_ time and energy just to abduct a bunch of worthless, useless Neutrals? The very idea makes no sense whatsoever. And _anyone_ should be able to see that._"_

"Often," Skyfire calmly pointed out, thankful that Starscream had chosen to talk at all, "people don't have a whole lot of sense when they're frightened out of their wits."

"Well, that's their problem right there, then," Starscream answered, all suddenly self-righteous smugness. "Because if I've learned _anything_ from the past few million years or so, it's that you must do whatever it takes hang on to reason and sanity. _Especially_ when you're frightened out of your wits."

"Maybe so," Skyfire conceded before adding, somewhat more sarcastically, "but these people haven't yet learned that lesson that you, in your infinite wisdom, so obviously grasp."

Starscream snorted at the snarkiness. Skyfire was, he reflected, getting better at it. It was only a marginal improvement, but he was learning. And he would continue to learn, with the proper tutelage, which Starscream was all too happy to provide.

"Three more of them disappeared last night," Skyfire was saying.

"And that's _my_ fault, of course," Starscream unsympathetically sniped.

"No one is saying that, Starscream," Skyfire somewhat testily replied.

Starscream regarded Skyfire askance, incredulously, exasperatedly. He blinked at him repeatedly, even.

"Skyfire, I love you dearly," he said disbelievingly, "but clearly you're living on a completely different plane of existence than everyone else on the planet. Of _course_ that's what they're saying! In fact, they just said it! To my face! Am I just supposed to sit back and take it when I know that it's not true?"

Skyfire sat down before he answered, not wanting to loom over Starscream. He had found that Starscream tended to calm more easily when he sat down to speak to him, when Starscream didn't have to crane his neck up to talk to him, when they could look straight into each other's faces.

"No," he answered calmly. "No, you have every right to defend yourself, of course. But… they believe that you are still a Decepticon, that your presence here has some ulterior motive behind it, and they're afraid of whatever that motive is. And _some_ of them believe that you are, in fact, Decepticon leader."

Starscream just blinked at Skyfire for a long moment after that. And then he exploded into howling, disbelieving laughter that lasted for a good long time. He ended up leaning against the wall of the ruined building behind him for support, when the laughter served to weaken his knees. When he could collect himself after a minute or two, Starscream regarded Skyfire with disbelief.

"Skyfire, I – We! – _killed_ Megatron," he needlessly reminded Skyfire. "That makes me _persona non grata_ in the eyes of those who worshipped him. Which is basically every Decepticon other than maybe Thundercracker. Leader! Hah! It's ridiculous."

"_I_ know that," Skyfire answered, "and _you_ know that." He gestured at the gathering of Neutral leaders across the way. "But _they_ don't know that. Oh, they know you did the deed," he continued, talking over Starscream's attempt to interrupt and protest, "because they've been able to confirm that through other non-biased sources, but they also know you'd been gunning for Megatron's job for…forever. They know nothing of the circumstances surrounding Megatron's demise. So as far as _they_ know, you're now in charge and Skywarp's just doing what you tell him to do, while you're out here doing…whatever it is they think you're doing, posing as a disaffected Decepticon. They think Chromia's crazy for letting you stay here. She says it's better to keep an eye on you than to let you roam around on your own, but they…" Skyfire's voice trailed off when he noticed that Starscream was gaping at him in disbelief. He wryly added, "You have to admit that that sort of plan is something that would have been right up your alley, Starscream."

"Mmmm," Starscream wordlessly agreed. "Except that Skywarp never would have gone along with it. If he had…" Starscream said with a somewhat devious little grin as his voice trailed off, "Well, if Skywarp would've been cooperative, I'd've tried something like that a _long_ time ago."

Skyfire smiled at that.

"My point exactly," he said. "And so to them, the fact that you showed up at about the time that their people started disappearing is by no means a coincidence. If they were thinking logically they'd see that you'd never be so stupid as to be so…coincidental, but they're not thinking logically. And the fact that Chromia continues to harbor you is, in fact, what is keeping this enclave alliance from happening. The other enclave leaderships don't trust you, nor do they trust me enough to accept my vouching for you."

"Well," Starscream griped matter-of-factly, "the feeling is mutual," For good measure, he aimed a challenging glare over at the small gathering of enclave leaders, all of whom were still watching him and Skyfire intently, with fixated curiosity.

Skyfire sighed, knowing that Starscream wasn't going to like hearing what he was going to say next.

"_You_ need to put that aside, Starscream," he said simply.

"Me?!" Starscream responded, jerking his gaze back to Skyfire, immediately outraged. "Them first!"

Skyfire shook his head sadly.

"That's not going to happen, and you know it," he said quietly, sadly, and with cruel honesty. "And the thing is that you – we – don't have any other options here. You are, as you said, _persona non grata_ amongst the Decepticons. Any of them would likely shoot you on sight, given the chance. I could go back to the Autobots, but your reception with them would likely be only slightly less 'warm' than it would be amongst the Decepticons, and I will not leave you. So this," he said, gesturing around the enclave's makeshift encampment, "is all that we have, Starscream. Like it or not, these people are all that we have, unless you want to have enemies literally on all sides of you. So it's _we_ who must appease _them_, not the other way around."

"'We' meaning 'me,' in this particular case," Starscream wearily added, after thinking about Skyfire's words for a few moments.

"I'm afraid so," Skyfire agreed quietly, sympathetically.

Starscream sighed a long, deep, and weary sigh, his shoulders suddenly slouching. He clenched his fists at his sides and then relaxed them, then clenched them again, over and over as he considered Skyfire's words. His words made sense, as they usually did. Skyfire's logic could sometimes put Shockwave's to shame. And Skyfire was right, too. There were no other alternatives. Still…

"I'm…not very good at this sort of thing, Skyfire," Starscream said uncertainly.

Skyfire hitched a small, sad smile at him.

"I know, love," he said. "But it must be done."

"How?" Starscream plaintively asked. "My pride is much too big to swallow, you know."

It was a good question, and Skyfire wasn't certain how to answer it.

"Maybe if you could be more…more…" he ventured, fumbling for words.

"More what?" Starscream asked, suddenly wary, peering sideways at his mate through eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"I don't know!" Skyfire exasperatedly replied. "More cooperative, maybe."

"Cooperative," Starscream echoed thoughtfully, but in a deeply sarcastic and mocking way. "Cooperative…" After an extended period of mock-musing on the word, he sniped, "Which is a tidy euphemism for 'Just shut up and make nicey-nice with the natives, Starscream.' Sorry, Skyfire. _Not_ my style."

"I don't mean nicey-nice," Skyfire testily shot back. "I mean…I don't know what I mean…Maybe give them those security grid access codes they've been asking you for."

Starscream sighed.

"Why bother?" he asked dispiritedly. "They've all been changed by now. Skywarp may be dumber than your average brick, but Thundercracker most certainly is not. And I know who's _really_ in charge. Sneaky bastard ended up with _my_ job after all."

"I thought Skywarp was the sneaky bas—" Skyfire began, then shook his head as if to clear it of debris. "No. No, I refuse to let you drag me off-topic. So: If you gave Chromia and the others the codes they want, at least it would show them that you're willing to be—"

"No, Skyfire," Starscream interrupted sadly. "No, here's how things would happen, if I did that: I give them my old codes. They merrily go off to raid the Decepticon base where they're so utterly convinced their comrades are being held. Lo and behold, the codes don't work! Massive casualties ensue! The survivors crawl back here in righteous outrage, convinced that I deliberately gave them the wrong codes. Then, they crucify me."

At that, Skyfire scowled and rose to his full and very impressive height and approached Starscream. This time, he intentionally loomed over him for a moment. Protectively so. And then he placed his hands on Starscream's shoulders. Starscream flinched at the contact, but for once he did not pull away. He also found that he couldn't drag his gaze away from Skyfire's.

"I will _not_ let that happen," Skyfire vowed solemnly. "No one will hurt you while I still function. That, I promise you. You simply must do what needs to be done, Starscream, if we are to survive and then let the chips fall where they may. Give them the information that they want, Starscream, whatever they want."

"But—" Starscream attempted to interrupt.

"But nothing!" Skyfire insisted, not budging an inch, literally or figuratively, and not taking his hands off of Starscream's shoulders. "Tell them the truth, Starscream. Tell them anything and everything that they want to know. Tell them, too, that any information you have is likely outdated and no longer accurate and then let _them_ decide what to do with it, if anything. But at least you will have told them _something_. Because that's where trust begins. You see how far being secretive and aloof has gotten you, don't you?"

And then Skyfire stepped back from Starscream, giving him space to think and to weigh options in his head. Starscream being Starscream, it didn't take him long to arrive at a conclusion.

"All right," he said quietly, defeated. "Fine. I'll tell them whatever they want to know. I'll tell them how much energon Soundwave has for breakfast every morning, if they want to know that. For all the good it will do. They'll still never trust me."

"Not at first, no," Skyfire conceded. "But they will have to trust you, eventually. They'll have no choice but to do so, _if_ you consistently offer them no reason to doubt you. But unfortunately for you, given your past and the decisions that you've made, you're in a position where you must prove yourself trustworthy. They," he finished, waving at the waiting Neutral leaders, "have nothing to prove."

Starscream sighed. Skyfire was right again, of course.

"It's that karma thing, isn't it?" Starscream asked, somewhat rhetorically. "Always biting me on the aft."

"Until you pay it off, yes," Skyfire agreed. "You could consider facing these people and telling them truthfully what they want to know as your first payment. And I'll be right there with you."

And without further ado, Skyfire turned and started to head back to the waiting Neutrals. Starscream, much more slowly and hesitantly, followed him.

"I hope you know what you're doing," Starscream called out as he followed Skyfire into the lion's den. He had to raise his voice because Skyfire had gotten quite a bit ahead of him.

Skyfire turned around then and walked backwards for a few steps so that he could see Starscream's face and Starscream could see his.

"Never!" he answered with a somewhat jaunty and amused little grin. "But I always seem to muddle through somehow, don't I?"

Starscream snorted and laughed humorlessly at that, but what Skyfire had said was true. Starscream could only hope that it would continue to hold true through the imminent confrontation that lay ahead of him…


	3. Chapter 3

_BWAH! I finished the story. Finally. Yay for me!_

_Anyway. Prowl. Jazz. Fluffyslashy. You know the drill, I trust?_

____________________________________________________________

Prowl intently scanned the darkening horizon as twilight fell. The tide was coming in. Each incoming wave crashed against the shoreline and then lapped up and around his feet and his backside, which were firmly planted in the sand. The retreating waves tried their best to pull him along with them into the Pacific Ocean, but Prowl held fast, hardly noticing the waves' efforts. Just as he had hardly noticed the curious sideways glances and the outright and sometimes overtly wary stares he had received from the humans who had been occupying the beach when he had arrived hours earlier. Even though the Autobots had resided on Earth for three years now, the humans still couldn't seem to help but to gawk at them. Sometimes, the tendency annoyed Prowl. Sometimes, it inwardly amused him. Mostly, though, he simply ignored the gawking and continued about his business.

Today, Prowl's business was waiting. Lots of waiting. A less patient soul might have found the waiting tedious. Not Prowl. Much as he generally tended to keep himself busy, mostly out of necessity, Prowl was not above enjoying a bit of down time here and there. "Here and there," of course, being the key phrase; too much down time could be every bit as aggravating as too little of it. As far as Prowl was concerned the Autobots had had far too much down time of late.

Ten weeks had passed since the Decepticons had made so much as a peep. The only sightings during the lull to date had been a few very intermittent reconnaissance patrols that had appeared on scanners, had drifted around seemingly at random for a few hours, and had then vanished into the Decepticons' underwater headquarters again. Lulls of this nature weren't, on the whole, unusual. The conflict between the Autobots and the Decepticons had always been to some extent sporadic in nature, with long lulls followed by the revelation of Megatron's next big plot. Everyone was waiting for a Big One now, the sort of major and very dramatic offensive that Megatron tended to launch after being deceptively quiet for a while. Usually, the longer the lull, the bigger the Big One, so after ten weeks of inactivity, all of the Autobots were waiting, in some cases anxiously, for the sky to fall.

All of the Autobots, that is, except for Prowl and Jazz, who had more than an inkling as to what the Decepticons' general problem likely was. Jazz had spent nearly a year, off and on, running supplies for Skyfire who, in turn, had spent that time working on Starscream in more ways than one, trying to restore in the Decepticon second-in-command the individual that Skyfire had known – and loved – before the outbreak of the Great War. It was, Prowl was certain, a daunting goal. All along, he had highly doubted that Skyfire could accomplish his self-assigned task, and he had especially looked upon Jazz's involvement in the whole affair with, at best, a very jaundiced eye.

Prowl hadn't been happy with the situation at all, in fact. Prowl's unhappiness and Jazz's stubborn refusal to back down had been the cause of some extremely volatile fights between the two of them. One of those arguments had been loud enough to prompt Wheeljack, their next-door neighbor, to pull Prowl aside the next day and inform him that he was welcome to crash in his quarters if he needed some space. The offer had brought Prowl up short, from embarrassment if nothing else, and from that point on he had resolved not to discuss the subject with Jazz anymore, to try to ignore it as best he could while at the same time trying his best not to hold Jazz's determination against him. True to form, that was about the time that Jazz had realized that the usefulness of his courier service had run its course, thus resolving the tension between the two of them anyway. That, however, didn't prevent Prowl from being cynically convinced that Jazz's efforts had amounted to exactly nothing.

Yet, _something_ had clearly happened, since not very long after that Skyfire had suddenly gone completely dark. No one had seen even a passing glimpse of Megatron or Starscream since then, either. Prowl knew that this was very unlikely to be a coincidence, and so every instinct that he possessed was screaming at him to tell Optimus Prime all that he and Jazz knew about the situation. Jazz, however, was not quite ready to admit to all that he had done over the past year, certainly not to Optimus Prime, and Prowl had promised to let Jazz decide when to talk about all of it. He had further promised not to pressure Jazz about the issue in the interim.

It was a very difficult promise for Prowl to keep, given his honest, forthright, and straight-arrow basic nature, but he had resolved to keep his mouth shut about Jazz's clandestine freelance activities for as long as he possibly could. He had his limits, though.

Still, both he and Jazz were curious as to what had happened to Skyfire, so Jazz had decided to make one last trip to the Indonesian island that had been Skyfire's home during his self-imposed exile. He wanted to see if he could glean any information as to Skyfire's whereabouts from whatever he might find there, if he didn't actually find Skyfire himself there.

Prowl had wanted to go with Jazz this time, but he knew that requesting a refit to allow surface ocean travel would probably raise more proverbial eyebrows than he wanted to deal with at the moment. Jazz had half-jokingly suggested that they could gloss over a refit request by claiming to have assimilated for themselves the human tradition of a honeymoon, delayed though it would be. As strangely amusing as the idea was, Prowl wasn't interested in adding another secret – another lie – to the pile that he was already harboring. He already had far too many lies to keep track of as it was; he was bound to allow something to slip and soon.

So, Prowl had stayed behind again. Waiting. Just as he'd done while Jazz had been making supply runs at Skyfire's behest. Prowl's only consolations were that this particular wait had at least been somehow less nerve-wracking than all those others had been and that, this time, Prowl was in full agreement that Jazz had needed to go. Some resolution, some closure would be good. For both of them.

It was fully dark when Prowl finally spotted Jazz approaching the shoreline, dark enough that he would have had to have used infrared to see him at all were it not for a gloriously bright full moon riding high overhead in a cloudless, star-shot sky. Jazz had some trouble working his way through the breakers, but eventually he managed it, and just a few moments later he was sitting next to Prowl in the sand, dripping wet and wearing an unusually troubled expression. He didn't seem at all inclined to say anything, either, which was even more unusual – and therefore disturbing – than Jazz's troubled expression.

"Well?" Prowl finally had to prompt Jazz when it seemed that Jazz was content to just sit and watch the waves rhythmically advance and retreat along the shoreline.

"Hmmm?" Jazz responded mildly, distractedly, which elicited a small frustrated noise from Prowl. Which, in turn, made Jazz smile a devilish little half-smile.

"What did you find?" Prowl prodded again.

Jazz frowned at the question. He was still trying to figure out just what he should make of what he had found – or, rather, _not_ found – on Skyfire's island base. Was it all a good sign? A bad sign? He'd thought about the implications of his discovery on the return journey, but he'd found that he'd just kept going in circles, coming up with all sorts of theories and explanations and then turning around and second-guessing every last one of them until he'd ended up not knowing what in the world he was supposed to think. He'd come to the conclusion that he just wasn't very good at explaining things. He could gather information and intelligence like nobody's business, but putting it all together and figuring out what it all meant without getting mired down in niggling details or wild speculation? That was what Prowl was for. It was amazing how quickly Jazz had come to rely on that.

So, Jazz decided, it was just time to dump everything in Prowl's lap and then let _him_ mull it over for a while.

"I found," Jazz announced dispiritedly, "a whole lotta nothin', I'm afraid."

"Nothing?" Prowl responded, nonplussed. He supposed that he shouldn't be surprised, but that really wasn't the answer that he'd been expecting.

"Nothing," Jazz confirmed with a decisive nod. "Zero. Zilch. Zip. Nada."

"I get the idea, Jazz," Prowl responded dryly.

"Place was wiped clean," Jazz continued, as if he'd not heard Prowl at all. "Oh so carefully wiped clean, even. It looked like nobody'd ever been there in the whole history of ever. It was spooky. Totally creeped me out. I mean, you'd think there'd be _something_ left. Skyfire was living there for more than a year and all. But there was nothing. Not even a footprint or a disturbed bit of scrub anywhere."

"Mmmm," Prowl murmured. He considered the implications of Jazz's information for a moment, turning possibilities over in his mind, and then he added, "You would especially think there would be something left behind if Skyfire had either left in hurry or had been killed. The fact that there is no trace of anyone having lived there for a year tells me that Skyfire – or _someone_, at any rate – had the opportunity to pick up after himself. And assuming that it _was_ Skyfire who cleaned up the place, it's obvious that he deliberately left no clues as to where he had gone."

"So that no one could follow him," Jazz surmised, nodding. "Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking."

"I would tend to agree," Prowl responded with an approving nod. "I do believe you're getting better at the whole logic thing, Jazz," he teased with a little mischievous grin, elbowing Jazz in his side for good measure.

"No way!" Jazz answered fervently. "'Cuz really? I thought that, sure. But _then_ I second-, third-, and fourth-guessed that theory to the point that I figured that it couldn't _possibly_ be right. So there."

Prowl snickered at that.

"Well," he remarked, "at least you're thinking. That's something of an improvement, anyway."

"Shut up!" Jazz responded, laughing and giving Prowl a playful shove. Then he sobered and added, "But – logically speaking, Primus help me – how do you justify assuming that it was Skyfire who cleaned up the place? Could've been that the Decepticons picked up after themselves, if they found him there and…well, you know, destroyed him. Or just captured him, even."

"But why would they do that?" Prowl countered. "Why would they care whether or not anyone would know that they had been there?"

"They wouldn't," Jazz said flatly, after only a split-second of consideration of Prowl's questions.

"Exactly," Prowl said. "It's never been their habit to clean up their messes. Even if they'd destroyed Skyfire, they would have just left his body there. So the only logical conclusion I can see is that Skyfire left, and that he was careful to leave no trace of himself and no indications as to where he went."

"So, wherever he – or they, if he's got Starscream with him –"

"Which is also likely," Prowl interjected, "since we've not seen Starscream. Or Megatron, for that matter. It _is_ possible that both of them are dead, but were _that_ the case, I would think that Skyfire would have returned to Autobot Headquarters, as he would then have had no reason not to do so."

Prowl paused, considering his conclusions for half a second, making sure he had his logical ducks in a row. Satisfied that he did, he announced his conclusion.

"So the most logical conclusion in this case," he asserted, "seems to be that Skyfire and Starscream are somewhere, together. My _guess_ would be that they went to Cybertron, on the theory that they could easily conceal themselves in the chaos there much more easily than they'd be able to hide anywhere here on Earth."

Jazz nodded at Prowl's conclusions.

"Sounds sensible to me," he agreed, "and Skyfire's a sensible kinda guy." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "And wherever they went, they took all of Skyfire's stuff with them. And believe me; he had a _lot_ of stuff."

"Mmmm," Prowl murmured. "Most of which you brought to him," he added after just the slightest bit of hesitation.

Jazz was suddenly still and silent for a significant and very noticeable moment before he sighed wearily and then quietly asked, "Are we really going to have _that_ argument again, Prowl?"

"No," Prowl responded decisively after a moment of consideration. "No, we are not. What would be the point? What's done is done. But…"

"But what?" Jazz prompted warily when Prowl's voice trailed off.

Prowl made a quiet, unhappy noise, loath to bring up the subject that was weighing heaviest on his mind but knowing that he very much needed to do so. As was his wont, he addressed the subject forthrightly, avoiding any beating around any bushes.

"I know that I promised you that I wouldn't nag you about this," Prowl said, "but… Don't you think it's time that we tell Optimus Prime what we know about this entire situation? It's been almost three months, you know."

Jazz made a noncommittal noise at that and said, "Yeah, and he's going nuts trying to figure out what's going on."

Prowl nodded at that.

"Yes," he confirmed. "And I'm fairly certain that he knows that _I_ know much more than I'm telling him." When Jazz gave him a questioning look, Prowl added, "I'm really not very good at pretense, Jazz."

At that, Jazz barked out a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Coulda fooled me!" he exclaimed. "All that time I spent chasing you, and you pretending not to notice. Seriously, I would judge you a _master_ of pretense, lover of mine."

Prowl merely harrumphed at that assertion.

"_Not_," he argued pointedly, "when it comes to _this_ subject." When Jazz just regarded him skeptically, Prowl elaborated, "Sublimating your obvious…er, interest in me was one thing, Jazz; lying to Optimus Prime's face on a daily basis is very much another. I don't know how much longer I can do it, quite frankly, without letting something slip," he said mournfully. "I'm sorry to do this to you, love, but… Well, in all honesty, I think the only reason I've been able to keep it up this long is because I've been lying for _you_."

Jazz sighed at that. He'd known that keeping quiet was a strain on Prowl, and he felt guilty for continuing to ask it of him. Yet, he just hadn't been able to get to the point where he was comfortable confessing what he'd done. Optimus might understand, a little bit, given that he at least knew about the nature of the relationship between Skyfire and Starscream, but when it leaked to everyone else, as it inevitably would, somehow…? That was difficult to accept with equanimity.

Seeing Jazz's indecision and the look of dread on his face, Prowl felt compelled to apologize again, but this time Jazz raised his hand to stave off his unnecessary apology.

"Naw, baby," he said. "You're right." Then he turned his head to look at Prowl squarely and said, "And _I_ should be the one who's sorry, not you. I shouldn't have asked that of you in the first place. It was totally unfair of me. Selfish. I made the decision to do what I did all by myself, so now I need to accept the consequences all by myself."

Wordlessly, Prowl wormed his way closer to Jazz and wrapped an arm around him. It was a comforting gesture, affectionate and protective, and Jazz leaned into him gratefully. Once Jazz settled against him, Prowl felt compelled to plant a kiss on the top of his head and Jazz smiled.

"You won't face the consequences all by yourself," Prowl informed Jazz after several long moments of silence. "I'll be right there with you."

Warmth suffused Jazz. He wasn't surprised at the offer, really, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Angling his gaze up so that he could meet Prowl's, he said simply, "Thanks, love."

They settled into silence then, snuggled together, each enveloped in his own thoughts and watching the hypnotizing waves. After a few minutes, Jazz felt compelled to break the silence, the waves having given him a devious idea.

"Remember that movie…?" Jazz ventured. In truth, he was trying to distract himself from the thought of spilling his proverbial guts to Optimus Prime in the near future, and Jazz knew one surefire and very effective method of distracting himself…

Disappointingly, though, Prowl was way ahead of him. As usual.

"No, Jazz," he said decisively. "I am _not_ going to roll around on this beach with you."

Jazz pulled out the stops, wormed his way out of Prowl's embrace, and then pouted the pout that he knew Prowl had extreme difficulty resisting. Jazz pouted at Prowl for quite a while, even, but Prowl's resolve didn't seem to be faltering this time. Not in the least. Jazz sighed then, giving up the effort.

"Spoilsport," he grumbled, defeated.

There was silence again for a few moments, but for the sound of the ocean breeze and the crashing waves. Then Prowl mused, as if he wasn't talking to anyone in particular, "However…I wouldn't necessarily be averse to a little rolling around at home, where there's no sand…"

Prowl gave Jazz a sly sidelong glance at that, and Jazz's face instantly lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Now you're talkin', baby!" he crowed enthusiastically. "_Now_ you're talkin'."


End file.
